


A Match Made in Hell (and Earth)

by aphyrid



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Blowjobs, Established FWB, F/M, Fellatio, Female Reader, Friends With Benefits, Love Triangle, Smut, Tags will be updated, Weirdly Domestic FWB Relationship, confident!reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:13:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28659279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aphyrid/pseuds/aphyrid
Summary: Reader is enjoying an established, friends with benefits relationship with new friend, Daniel Espinoza. What happens when she meets gorgeous club owner, Lucifer, and becomes the center of an intense love triangle between them? Being stuck between safe, predictable Daniel and the confident, reckless Lucifer will not go smoothly.No Deckifer, but also no shitting on Chloe here we support women.
Relationships: Dan Espinoza/Reader, Daniel Espinoza/Reader, Ella Lopez & Reader, Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV)/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	A Match Made in Hell (and Earth)

**Author's Note:**

> I've noticed a trend in reader fics where the reader tends to be sort of shy and reserved, do not expect that here. This is for my loud, assertive bitches. Also for the bitches who are attracted to Dan even though all your friends dunk on you for it.
> 
> WARNING  
> The story starts out explicit, so be warned. Not every chapter will be like this, so I hope you aren't put off, lmao.Anyways, enjoy I hope.

“Is that my shirt?” Dan asked, frozen in place, elbow deep in a pile of laundry. The room was a complete disaster. What used to be a small hill of dirty laundry, semi neatly pushed into a dark corner, was now strewn across the floor. The pile was in good company, with hangers and jackets messed about. The closet door hung open, now half empty. The missing clothes had been tossed carelessly onto the bed and you crinkled your nose at the thought of having to pull out the ironing board again. It wasn’t like he couldn’t iron anything himself, it’s just that he _shouldn’t_. It never went well. You’d never met someone who was able to make something more wrinkly from ironing, but apparently it’s possible.

“Maybe.” You responded, tossing yourself onto the bed and throwing him a cheeky look. He frowned and furrowed his brow, tilting his head at you and crossing his arms over his chest. Strong arms, you remarked to yourself, dragging your eyes across his biceps. You ripped yourself out of your thirst-induced gaze to look Dan in the eyes. He didn’t seem amused.

“Seriously, you know that’s my lucky improv shirt. I do my best work when I have it.” That stupid shirt. It was the ugliest thing in existence, with green polka dots atop a pale blue background. There was an overlay of colorful dots and strings that could only be described as bowling alley carpet. It was hideous. But Dan insisted that every time he wore the shirt, he had a ‘breakthrough’ with his work. He tapped his foot on the floor and pulled out his phone to glance at the time. “I’m gonna be late, Y/N, hurry up and hand it over.” You sighed dramatically, letting your body slide off the bed like a cup of slime. Upon hitting the floor, you smirked up at Dan, who pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. “I’m hitting my limit here, Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes. Such dramatics over a lucky shirt. You hated when he got grumpy with you, and he could be so quick to get in a bad mood. The whole wholesome living and reading from Linda hadn’t been working where it mattered. Your tune changed as a quick idea popped up, and you smiled at him from the floor, reaching your hands up to clasp of his belt. Before he could protest, you had unhooked the belt and begun to slide it out of his jeans. Before it could leave the final loop of fabric, however, Dan’s much bigger hand shot out and caught your wrist. You fought back with a pout.

“C’mon Dan would it kill anybody for you to be late ONE time. Just once? I swear between the precinct, your late nights, and improv I haven’t seen you in weeks.” You whined, putting on your best beggar face. He wasn’t budging, meeting your doe eyes with steel.

“When I joined the improv club I took an oath-“

“Oh, Jesus fuck not this again, Dan, with the oath. I’m not asking for much!” You groaned, exasperated. Who fights oral this hard, over a glorified drama club? Not that you, or anyone, would call it that to his face. He ignored your pleas and cleared his throat to continue his speech.

“An oath to uphold the rules of the club. To be loyal and respectful to my fellow members and to never miss a meeting, except in the case of an emergency. Improv is a more than a club. It’s a group of creative, like-minded people who simply want to express their life on stage.” As he spoke, he spread his arms as if he were some kind of Shakespearian artist delivering their magnum opus to an expectant crowd. You huffed, rolling your eyes again and moving your hands to work on his zipper, which Dan failed to notice in his grandiose.

“It is the purest form of creation. It’s spontaneous… and- and- beautiful! It’s art, really, and the fact that no one can see that but me, apparently, is-“ He choked on his words before he could finish, as you had managed to carefully undo his zipper and pull his cock out while he spoke. You gave a few languid strokes before speaking.

“You’re a huge dork, you know that?” You stated, sticking out your tongue and pressing it to the underside of his cock, dragging it up until you hit the tip. His demeanor quickly changed as you worked, from tall and sure to quick breaths and low groans. Dan ran his fingers through your hair, pulling lightly as you rested a hand on his thigh. Your other hand was soon wrapped around his base, pumping slow but steady, dripping in spit. Dan moaned as you hollowed out your cheeks, pumping him into your mouth quicker than before. He moved both hands to your hair, gripping you tight as he began to move your head on his own. You stared up at him with fake innocence, removing your hand from his cock and gripping his waistband. Dan forced you back for a moment, enjoying your teary eyes and the spit that dripped down your chin.

“If you’re in such a rush, you could just, you know, fuck my throat.” You licked your lips, doing nothing to soften the blow of such a suggestion. He swore, grinding his teeth together and pushing you back towards his dick.

Though he wouldn’t say it, his busy schedule had him more than a bit pent up. It had been a solid month since you had more than 5 minutes alone with each other, save for when you were both asleep on the off nights that one of you slept over. The night would always start off with the intent to do something more, but Dan tended to crash as soon as he hit a soft surface, especially as of late. A few detectives had taken some overlapping vacation days, leaving volunteers, like Dan or Chloe, to pick up the slack. He was burnt out, to put it simply.

You held down a gag that threatened to surface as you bottomed out on his cock. It poked the back of your throat, filling your tastebuds with sweat and precum. He doubled over, forcing you to stay still as he relished in the feeling of being completely surrounded by your mouth. After a few very long seconds of being choked around him, he pulled back and began a steady, quick rhythm. The taste of his cock and the sounds he made, the pure feeling of being used, went straight to your cunt. You could feel your underwear, almost uncomfortably wet in your own jeans. With your hands not doing much, you snaked one down to your waist and began to undo your zipper. You feverishly slipped your fingers into your panties, dragging a couple digits through your folds and bringing some relief to your aching clit.

You moaned around his cock as you took care of yourself, the sound vibrating around his shaft.

“Fuck, you’re so hot like this. Choking on my cock, you look so good.” He strained, barely able to push the words through his teeth.

The praise washed over you, making your cheeks hot. You were getting closer with every stroke, reveling in the weight on your tongue. Dan was close, as well, panting roughly, having abandoned any semblance of rhythm or pattern in exchange for chasing his orgasm. Your fingers circled faster, pressing hard on your clit. Your whines got caught in your throat, blocked by Dan’s dripping cock. The feeling pooled in your stomach and sent shockwaves through your body. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as an orgasm worked through your body, your head going limp in Dan’s hands.

The sight of you cumming on your knees was enough to push Dan the rest of the way. With a few final, ragged thrusts, Dan pumped his load into your mouth, holding you flush against his skin until you swallowed him down. As soon as he loosened his fingers, you pulled off and gasped for air, pulling your hand out of your pants and zipping yourself up. Dan mirrored you before grabbing a clean, light blue button down from the bed behind you and throwing it on. He put on a brown leather jacket on top and picked his belt up from the ground to loop through his jeans.

“I thought you needed your lucky shirt, hm?” You teased, still breathing ragged. He smoothed out the wrinkles in his outfit before grabbing the keys laying on his side table and shoving them in his pocket.

“I can’t exactly wear it now, can I?” He pointed out, bending down to give you a quick kiss before racing out the door. You looked down and saw what he meant, the shirt was a mess of spit and stray cum that you hadn’t managed to swallow down.

“I have no idea what you mean, it looks perfect!” You called after him, pulling yourself to your feet and grabbing your phone from your pocket. He yelled an ‘I love you’ before the front door closed behind him and you smiled to yourself. The time read 8:46. He was 15 minutes late, and it would probably be past 9 before he got through the downtown, late night traffic.

You looked around at the mess of a bedroom he created, and elected to ignore it, at least until you took a shower first.

You peeled your clothes off and dropped them on the bedroom floor and made your way to his bathroom. The sink was mostly empty, save for some toothpaste, a toothbrush, and his cologne. You picked up the bottle and smelled it. The scent was woody and rich, with a bit of something that reminded you of fresh laundry. It was nice, and one of the reasons you so often borrowed his clothes. Never stole them, just took them to wear around your own apartment until the smell wore off. Then you would wash it and exchange it for whatever piece he last wore. It was a silent agreement. You get to borrow his clothes; he doesn’t have to do laundry. It was a solid exchange.

‘This has been the best trade deal in the history of trade deals, maybe ever.’ You snort to yourself, smiling as you grabbed a towel and a rag to hang on the metal rack by the shower. You turned the knob to the shower and scrolled through your phone as you waited for it to heat up. There wasn’t much to check, just a promotional email from [FAVORITE STORE] with a coupon and a text from Ella. You swiped to open the text, which was a picture of a cat in a lab coat. There were test tubes with colored liquid inside next to the animal, and the caption read ‘CSI: Miami? You mean faux-rensics?” You smiled at the picture. Though you didn’t work forensics with her, anyone can appreciate a classic cat meme.

‘Lmao, I hate that show. Every episode has the same plot, it’s the TV equivalent of eating unflavored pudding.’ You responded, setting your phone down on the sink and jumped in, relaxing as the boiling water cascaded over your skin.

You grabbed your travel size bottle of face wash and squirted it onto the rag, massaging the cleanser into your skin. You turned down the water just a bit to rinse your face off, before turning it back up and grabbing your body soap. Your mind wandered as you worked your way down, reflecting on the day so far. It was pretty uneventful, a basic Thursday at work. Customers weren’t really coming in for whatever reason, so you got to go home early, despite knowing you’ll regret the inevitable reflection of your choice on your paycheck. But, you hadn’t seen your dear friend, Daniel, in ages, and his shirts had lost their smell, so you stopped by your place to grab them, and a protein bar, before heading out.

Unfortunately for you, improv night had slipped your mind. By the time you arrived, Dan was halfway ready and the only thing on his mind was potential sets and ideas. The only thing preventing him leaving earlier than he had previously planned was the missing shirt, which you were wearing. You had run out of your own laundry, so you grabbed one of his from a pile before going to work that morning. He greeted you with a kiss before returning to his frantic search, not noticing your outfit. You followed him lazily around the house, up to his bedroom. You leaned on the doorframe and checked your nails, picking at the dirt that had become trapped there. That’s when Dan looked over and actually _looked_.

You rinsed the last of the soap form your body and turned the shower off, grabbing the towel and wrapping it around your body. You hung the shower cap up on the rack and threw the rag into the laundry basket, walking towards the mirror to throw on some lotion and moisturizer. It had been a couple days since your last good shower, and the clean feeling boosted your mood exponentially. As you grabbed your phone from the sink and walked back to the bedroom, you noticed Dan had left his watch behind. ‘Must’ve showered after work and forgot it.’ You figured. Normally, you wouldn’t give it a second thought, but you knew Dan loved that watch. His father had given it to him as a birthday present at some point and he only took it off when he had to, and, the whole time it was off, he would say how naked he felt without it.

You decided to call Dan just in case, to see if he wanted you to drop it off for him. Tonight was the monthly “double feature,” and, true to the name, club hours were extended from an hour and a half to three hours, and you probably needed to go home anyway, and the building wasn’t too far out of the way.

“Hey, Y/N, what d’you need?” Dan asked half paying attention to the call, half to the road.

“Hey, are you almost there?” You asked, sitting on the bed in the damp towel.

“Yea, I am, why? You ok?” You could hear the concern creep up in his voice and smiled softly. Dan was nothing if not caring.

“I’m fine, you just forgot your watch and I was wondering if you wanted me to drive down and drop it with you. I know it’s a longer night tonight and I need to go home and do some cleaning anyway, so.” You trailed off, not bothering to finish your explanation.

“That’d be great, actually. I noticed as soon as I was down the road but _someone_ had already made me late so I just kept going.” His voice carried a smile, despite his wildly baseless accusation.

“Alright Mr. Bolton, I’ll do that.” You retorted, biting at a nail on your free hand.

“Jokes on you, I don’t even get that reference, so-“and his voice cut off abruptly. Silence hung over the call like smog. You sat up straight in concern.

“Dan? You ok?” You asked anxiously.

“I’m fine, but I gotta go. There’s cops in front of the building, they’ve got the whole thing taped off. I’ll call you later, ok?.” And he hung up before you could give a goodbye.

You sat in shock for a second before standing up to get dressed. The cold feeling never lingered long, at least not anymore. It came with the territory of hanging out with a cop. Though the any-hour-work-calls had gotten routine, they hadn’t gotten any less annoying. Too many times had your quality time been interrupted for a false alarm or an overblown reaction from a rookie cop. You made the room halfway decent before grabbing the watch and heading out. Mostly putting things back into piles, but it was a start.

You grabbed your own keys from your pocket and walked out into the cool evening to your car. The sun had long since set but the wind was still warm on your skin, sending leaves skittering about as you sat down and started the engine.

The drive wasn’t horrible, as traffic had mostly cleared out for the night, at least by LA standards. Not even the birds were out and about, leaving the electric lines unusually barren. Somehow, with no birds in sight, something still managed to shit on your window, prompting a line of cursing and a promise to eat chicken for tomorrow’s dinner.

It wasn’t long before you arrived on the scene, and Dan hadn’t exaggerated. The whole building seemed taped, at least one cop at every door. There were two cops talking to reporters, but the scene had mostly cleared of onlookers. You spotted Dan’s car and parked next to it, grabbing the watch from the cupholder and exiting your car. You walked up to the nearest blocked entrance and quickly spotted Espinoza and a few colleagues within the front room. 

Dan was in the middle of conversation with a few colleagues. The closest to him was a tall, blonde woman with long hair and a thin sweater. She was kneeling next to the body, talking to your good friend, Ella, who wore her typical ponytail and graphic tee. Towering above them all was a rather fit man with dark hair and an obviously expensive suit. He didn’t seem to be doing much, but he didn’t look out of place, either. He had an obvious confidence and swagger that showed through his stance alone. The man looked like he had tall, dark, and handsome on his license. He had his hands in his pockets, and he turned and made a comment to Dan that earned him a soft smack on the arm. You smirked, always so serious.

You called out to Espinoza, waving him over with the watch in hand. He noticed you and excused himself from the scene, jogging over to put on the piece.

“Thanks for dropping by, though I didn’t expect you to come, to be honest. Now that it’s an active crime scene, and all.” He gave you a playful smile, slipping the watch onto his wrist. He lifted the caution tape and motioned you under, and you walked back to the center of the scene together.

“Well, you know me. Can’t get enough action in the day.” You emphasized the word action with a drag of your tongue on the underside of your teeth, looking him up and down with exaggeration. He rolled his eyes and didn’t respond. There was a badly hidden smile on his face as you both reached the scene.

He was about to address the group when the tall man in the suit interjected. He slid his arm in between you two, resting his hand on your shoulder and shooting you an impossibly white smile.

“Hello there, gorgeous. Daniel,” He glanced over his shoulder before returning his gaze, and a dazzling smile, to you. “I don’t believe you’ve introduced me to your friend, here. I’m surprised we haven’t met, quite frankly. Daniel’s circle is remarkably small. I thought Daniel only had friends in the force,” he leaned in closer and stage whispered to you, “you know, the ones forced to be around the old douche.” He shot you a cheeky smile and a wink, opening the floor for you or Dan to respond. Daniel started with something, but it was your turn to interrupt.

“It’s Y/N, nice to meet you.” You said as you shrugged off his hand, reaching out to shake it instead, “I’m a friend of Daniel’s. We actually met at a party at Ella’s.” You remarked, exchanging smiles with your friend.

“Friends, you say?” His eyes opened wide in interest, leaning closer to you. “I almost thought you and Detective Douche here were an item. My mistake, really. I do apologize for assuming that such a dove would crack on with, well...” He motioned to a disgruntled Daniel. The man reached out once again and softly kissed the back of your hand. Heat crept up your neck onto your cheeks, and you stuttered out a quick ‘no problem.’ You cleared your throat as he released your hand and your brain cells returned.

"He's not _that_ bad. Though a new wardrobe wouldn't hurt. Seriously, how many leather jackets can someone have?" You teased, earning a chuckle from the man.

The blonde women who had been talking to Ella stood up to greet you, outstretching a hand that you accepted. She welcomed you with a smile, introducing herself as Chloe Decker, a name you recognized.

“Oh! Daniel’s talked about you, yeah! It’s cool to finally meet you, I’ve heard such good things. Other than, you know, the whole divorce thing.” You threw a quick hello to Ella, who was busy messing with some “hand-held” machine the size of her head. 

Chloe smiled through a grimace, putting a hand on the shoulder of the man in the suit and introducing him.

“This is Lucifer. Weird name, I know. He, uh, thinks he’s the devil." She noticed the look on your face, and quickly continued, "But he's harmless. Mostly. He’s actually one of consultants. We were just throwing around some ideas about the case. He was a member of the improv club that meets here,” she gestured to the building around them “our working theory is a basic mugging went wrong.” She sighed and placed her hands in her pockets,

“Doesn’t hurt to take a closer look, though." Chloe paused to take a breath.

"First responders said he went quickly, at least.” She muttered.

Your eyes inflated to the size of the moon, and you threw a half-hearted punch to Daniel’s chest.

“Holy shit! It literally did kill someone for you to be late!” You blew out a heavy breath, “Yeah, remind me to just let you have your lucky shirt next time.”

Chloe and Ella shared a puzzled look, while you, Dan, and Lucifer all met eyes, before Espinoza quickly cleared his throat and changed the subject.

“So, any security cameras nearby?”

**Author's Note:**

> \- I've tried to make this as inclusive as possible, while still being relatable and readable. Let me know if I fail here or in the future to succeed in these fields.  
> \- I'm hoping to update this semi-regularly, maybe weekly? No promises, though a bitch has depression.  
> \- PLEASE drop some feedback if you've got any, or just a comment on what you liked. It helps so, so much <3


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